


'Cause There's No Nicer Witch than You

by sammys_lover



Series: October Writing Challenge '20 [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AND HAVE HIM DIP ME, Cute, Dancing, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts ship it, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Holding Hands, I just wanna dance with ford, I wanna hOLD HIS HAND, October, Reader is kind of a witch, Romantic Fluff, Teasing, haunted, october writing challenge, protective ford, reader is gender-neutral, romantic, sigh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover
Summary: Ford's not had the best experience with ghosts in the past.You change that.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Reader, Stanford Pines/Reader
Series: October Writing Challenge '20 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949584
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	'Cause There's No Nicer Witch than You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to songs here
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srRgqb_1pGs&t=170s
> 
> I'm a sucker for old music ;u;

This old, rickety house... it’s so dark. Dusty. Completely and totally haunted. You can hear the disembodied footsteps, curtains blowing in the non-existent breeze, and you can almost feel the spirits that linger. 

You love it! 

“You’re insane, wanting to come here.” Ford’s complaint comes from his spot at the dining room table, where he’d been setting up equipment. You’d been asked here to evaluate the house – you have a knack for sensing ghosts, and determining their different types. Then the professionals come in with your assessment after you and catch/exorcise whatever you find. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk.” You raise a brow at him as you walk through the dining room and into another nearby room – you're in the kitchen now, and Ford follows worriedly behind you. 

“Darling, I’ve seen horrors that no man should ever see – I've seen what category 10s are capable of-” 

“As have I.” 

“I know, but- this work is horribly dangerous! We should leave while we still can.” 

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” You’re not sure your reassurance does any good as you leave the kitchen to walk into the large living room. The couch is just as old as the rest of the furniture -- there’s an old, dusty record player, tall shelves full of books, all of that. It was like you and Ford had stepped into a house straight out of the ‘50s. 

“I wasn’t about to let you walk into a place like this alone.” 

You stop dead in your tracks in the middle of the room, all of your focus on the dull, staticky feeling that hangs thick in the air. Something’s lingering here. 

“This is it. This is the room.” 

Ford stills completely as he stands beside you, staying sharp. 

“Can you hear anything?” 

You think for a moment – you focus. Hard. But there’s nothing but a near-silent ringing in your ears. 

“There’s not a sound,” you respond, opening your eyes, addressing the spirits. “Hello?” 

Ford looks at you with wide eyes. He’s not connected to the dead like you are. He’s only seen the more malevolent side of things like this. Maybe it was time to show him how... jovial spirits can be. And these were spirits – you could feel it. They mean no harm at all. 

“Could you give us a sign? Prove that you’re here?” 

There’s a moment of dead silence before all the curtains in the room draw closed – the room is significantly darker now. 

Ford had practically leapt to stand protectively in front of you – it was sweet for him to want to protect you from the window, and you didn’t have a heart to remind him that he could simply be phased through. 

“Thank you,” you smile, placing a hand on Ford’s shoulder as you stepped around him, a small smile on your face. “See, honey? They’re not here to hurt us.” 

He gives you a concerned look. 

“Oh, my dear...Ghosts aren’t something to be toyed with-” 

“So why were you lying in a graveyard ghost-watching?” 

“There’s a difference between a soul being trapped somewhere and a soul choosing to stay. Those who choose to stay have much greater power than those who simply cannot leave.” 

Okay, that was true. But these were just the people who had lived here in the past! These were the souls of the people who built this house and want to see that it and the new family is protected! They mean no harm. 

“Who in this room thinks my husband should loosen up?” You have a sly smile on your face as you ask the question, and a mere moment later, every candle in the room (about 5 or 6) had spontaneously lit. 

“I see,” you continue, holding Ford’s hand. “Is there anything else? Before we get going?” 

There’s a powerful static in the air that you really only feel when something supernatural was moving or using something from the living world. The static continues until there’s some kind of crackle behind you, and music begins playing on the record player 

In a moment, an old Steve Lawrence song, Bewitched, begins to play throughout the room. 

Your face lights up as you look up at Ford, twirling to stand completely in front of him, taking both of his hands in yours, swaying gently to the music. 

“I think they’d like for us to stay for a song.” He’s trying so, so hard not to smile, you can see it in his eyes. “C’moooooon,” You tease him a little bit, urging him to sway to the beat with you – and he finally breaks. A grin spreads across his face, and you take the opportunity to hold one of his hands, twirling in a circle, letting him pull you back in, his unoccupied hand landing on your hip. 

“Bewitched, bewitched 

You know your craft so well,” 

You sing quietly along to the song, Ford’s eyes on you as you lit up like a star. You have that same look in your eye that he had the moment he had stepped into Gravity Falls, and he could swear that he was falling even more in love with you now as the two of you danced across the dimly lit living room. 

The both of you turn and sway, holding hands while your other rested on his shoulder, his on your waist as he lets you lead. Before long he starts humming along to the song with you, the both of you laughing quietly as he spun you before pulling you back towards him. There we go! All warmed up! 

“I never thought my heart could be had 

But now I've been caught and I’m kinda glad to be,” 

He dips you slightly, and you don’t even try to hold back your laughter when he blushes at your wink. You lean up to nuzzle his nose with yours, foreheads touching for a brief moment before the both of you straighten again, stepping together to the music 

“To be bewitched!” 

As the both of you swing in time together, forms begin to take shape in the darkness around you – blue and green glowing figures – dancing with one another much like you and Ford were. 

Ford had started singing quietly along to the song, and at the sound of his voice you forget that it’s not exactly common to be dancing in a room full of ghost couples. You’re lost in the look in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, and every note he sings to you. 

“My heart was under lock and key,” 

“But somehow it got unhitched!” You finish for him, and he continues. 

“I never thought my heart could be had,” every ghostly gentlemen in the room joins him to sing, “But now I've been caught and I’m kinda glad that you,” 

Everyone, living and dead, finishes out the song as you and Ford spin like Jack and Rose in Titanic. 

“You do that crazy voodoo,” You’re pulled together again, letting him dip you one last time as the song finishes out with; 

“And I’m bewitched by you.” 

All the ghosts erupt in applause, a few of them dissipating completely, but others stay, seemingly a little more solid. You both straighten and Ford takes a bow after you. 

“That was wonderful!” An older woman speaks up. 

“We haven’t had that kind of life in this house in years!” A man off to the side, holding the hand of another, slightly more transparent man smiles at you both. 

A couple, the most solid of them all, a light periwinkle, step forth. You smile and let the woman take your hands. 

“This house has been in our family for generations. We hadn’t been able to pass the house down to our grandchildren, but we... we wish to stay to look after the folks that do move in.” 

You nod, running your thumbs over her cold hands once. 

“I completely understand. My husband and I will make sure the new owners know that you aren’t here to cause harm. I’ll make sure you’re welcome to stay.” 

She smiles, the wrinkles on her face doubling as she does. “Thank you. You have magic in your blood, dearie. And you’ve done well to use it wisely.” 

The needle on the record player lifts out of the way as the record floats away, placed gently in a sleeve and then set back on the top of the tallest shelf in the room. 

And then they all begin to fade, leaving as quickly as they’d come – and the old woman’s hands fade from yours, the chill on your skin the only evidence that she was there at all. 

You stumble slightly, head light, happy that Ford was there to support you when your knees got weak. You fall against his chest, and the candles in the room blow out, wisps of smoke billowing up in the air. The room is dark and still. 

“That still takes a lot outta me.” 

He lets you hold onto his arm as he helps you get through the living room to the foyer, then out the front door to your car. 

“I can see that... I want to run some tests when we get home-” 

“To make sure there’s no lasting damage.” You finish as he opens the passenger door for you. “I know the drill. And I won’t bite you this time.” 

Your joke makes him laugh as he leans forward to kiss you gently. When he pulls away again, you relax against the seat. 

“Still afraid of ghosts?” 

He chuckles lightly as he turns to look at the house, then to you once again. 

“I-... alright, maybe not. You did well. As always!” 

You smile, hugging yourself to keep warm. Your hands were still a little chilly. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

"Don't I know it. Are you going to be alright while I grab the equipment in the house?" 

You nod before he makes his way back up to the house and disappears inside. You settle back against the seat and let your eyes close, still smiling softly, your mind still on dancing. 

You ought to get a record player for your own place.


End file.
